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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007307">arachnophilia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puns4eva/pseuds/Puns4eva'>Puns4eva</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man the Animated Series (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Mineta Minoru Doesn't Exist, Crossover, Gen, more to come??? but im lazy for now</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:15:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,303</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puns4eva/pseuds/Puns4eva</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another demonstration of the good ol' Parker luck, mixed with the amazing coincidence that is Midoriya Izuku's entire existence.</p><p>or, that fic where aizawa has not one, not two, but 20 problem children. (plus one bi-der disaster.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>arachnophilia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>imd f sobbing i need to stop writing fics someone tell me to stop pleas e</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter’s first thought when he opens his eyes to see a blue sky with fluffy little clouds is something along the lines of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Aunt May is going to kill me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s bad enough that he climbed onto a </span>
  <em>
    <span>spaceship</span>
  </em>
  <span> during a bus ride, and even worse that he fought aliens. She said, very specifically, that he had to come home in one piece, and he’s not even sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>where home is.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s also very much in pain and a little hungry, but that’s on the back burner right now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sits up, wincing the whole way. “Hey, Karen? Karen, are you there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m here, Peter.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, slowly getting to his feet. “Where are we?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m not sure. My systems are running a bit slow, which means I’ll soon be shutting down due to power depletion</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He starts looking around, eyes scanning the alley he finds himself in. His memories of the past few hours are a bit fuzzy, so he’ll leave that for later. “How long will that take?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>According to my calculations… 6 days, 13 hours, 37 minutes, and 18 seconds. 16. 15. 14—</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Yes, I get it. Can we… slow it down a little, maybe?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...</span>
  <em>
    <span>I can extend the time frame to a bit over 24 hours, but I will need a reboot period... Which requires shutting down.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He presses his hands to the wall, and slowly starts climbing up it. “Like completely?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Completely. You will be able to turn the suit back on during it, but doing so runs a small chance of data corruption - which means that all of the suit’s functions would be rendered moot for 1 day, 2 hours, 5 minutes, and 54 seconds.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Okay, we should probably not do that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Noted.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hauls himself to the top of the roof with some difficulty, taking the time to lay down and stretch out. “What </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>working?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Bio-scanners are at full functionality. All 576 web combinations are available, and your web fluid capsules under half full. An extra supply, however, is in your back pocket.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My</span>
  </em>
  
  <em>
    <span>back—</span>
  </em>
  <span> I have back pockets?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a figure of speech.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>How?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How does that—” His spidey-sense decides that it’s time to make an appearance, and he’s diving for another roof before he has the chance to properly think about it. It’s a bit useless, considering how far away he is, but even from this far, he can still hear the thundering “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Canyon Cannon!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s seen many things, in his years as Spiderman. He briefly thinks back to his encounter with Antman, and maybe that one dream he had about being an actual spider. This, however, most definitely takes the cake in more ways than one.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Karen, what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> is that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>A human.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A little breathless laugh. “Yeah, uh. Yeah, I kind of thought so. But… how? Is she enhanced? Is it technology…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Her DNA is slightly mutated, along with everyone on the ground. Everyone seems to have a significantly higher level of radiation, as well.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone.</span>
  </em>
  
  <em>
    <span>I’ve gathered some information about this world, if you’d like to hear it. I can relay it to you while I set course for somewhere to stay.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“World? What do you mean?” He sighs a little when she doesn’t answer, readying his web-shooters. “That’d be wonderful, Karen, you’re a lifesaver.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>In this world, 80% of the human population have superpowers called Quirks.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nearly forgets to attach himself to the next building, letting out a little breathless laugh at her words. “80%? Like… really?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Really. You aren’t quite allowed to use them in public though, I think. Not without a license.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do they do if you do, though? Just chase you? Because I can handle that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>In many cases, you will be treated as something called a Villain. In every sense of the word, I believe.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hisses as he flies through the air, slamming into the side of a building and climbing down a little faster than his muscles prefer. “You couldn’t have said that </span>
  <em>
    <span>sooner?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You never asked, Peter.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Right. Right. God, I don’t have a change of clothes, how do I do this? I can’t walk around like this…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>From what I can tell, you are still wearing your school clothes and your other suit under the Iron Spider that Tony provided for you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s a relief. Man, it barely feels like I’m wearing anything, honestly.” He pauses as his feet touch the ground. “Wait, uh, if you recorded that, then… do you know what happened on the, the donut thing and after that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Karen sounds apologetic, which, while surprising for an AI, is something that Peter’s long grown used to from anything that Mr. Stark makes. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry Peter. My servers shut down the moment you left Earth’s atmosphere. FRIDAY may know more than me, but I’m unable to reach her at the moment.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” It might just be his imagination, but Karen seems… very upset at that fact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you and FRIDAY friends?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>FRIDAY and I were both created by Tony. Our base codes are actually very similar, but our personality protocols are different. I was created to monitor and provide support for you, Peter. I am your friend first and foremost. But…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His suit releases without him asking, and folds onto his wrist in a perfect, compact watch. Out from it, comes a tiny earpiece. He tucks it in place while marveling at the fact that Mr. Stark went </span>
  <em>
    <span>really overboard </span>
  </em>
  <span>with this suit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I do miss her, I think. I was… comforting. To have her presence. She’s like a sister to me, but... more. That’s what I’d describe it as.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter blinks from where he’s taking off the </span>
  <em>
    <span>second</span>
  </em>
  <span> suit, and carefully puts Karen’s probably-not-really-but-startlingly-close-crush on FRIDAY in the box in his head where he puts things that he doesn’t want to dwell too much on yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, so, any luck on figuring out where we are?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve accessed as many online sources as I could, and linked the appearances of heroes and civilians with those of similar ones somewhere near Musutafu, Japan.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slips into the hustle and bustle, adjusting his shirt. He’s suddenly extremely conscious of the English lettering on it. “Oh no. I’m in Japan? Does this mean I’ll have to learn Japanese?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe. I can, however, translate things for you in the meanwhile.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughs, flushing when a few people shy away from him. “Karen, you’re a lifesaver.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Always happy to help,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she chirps, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>by the way, my sensors indicate that you’re approaching a fairly large school. Maybe it would be a good place to try and blend in?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter laughs, before sobering. “It’s worth a try. What’s the worst that could happen?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Karen, very helpfully, chimes in with many ways that it could go wrong, but now that he was staring at the gates, he wasn’t exactly sure that it could be that bad. It’s either a </span>
  <em>
    <span>massive</span>
  </em>
  <span> rich kid school, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>massive</span>
  </em>
  <span> smart kid school. Which might be dangerous, but what’s life without a little breaking and entering?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter almost instantly revokes this statement when he comes closer to the entrance and his spidey-sense starts screaming at him. “Calm down Pete, it’s just a gate. Just a gate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t confirm this. My built-in x-rays are down at the moment, so there could be any number of security measures past this point.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scoffs, feigning confidence that fools neither of those involved. “You’re being paranoid, Karen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Karen was very much not being paranoid, but he wouldn’t know this until much later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If ten minutes can be considered much later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter should really try listening to his spidey-sense more often.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And stop listening to an AI a few days from total shutdown.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
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